


Homecoming

by ao_no_uma



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: ChirpBaze, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor wounds, spiritassasin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ao_no_uma/pseuds/ao_no_uma
Summary: Baze comes back from his errand and Chirrut awaits to take care of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Looonia16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Looonia16/gifts).



Baze steps in shadows of NiJedha’s low buildings in the dead of night, carefully, not to be seen. Dark alleys are full of danger and enemies which Baze is not willing to meet in his current state. Right thigh hurts where he was hit with a bat or maybe a metal rod. Lungs burn from inhaling acrid smokes when the hangar exploded. And not to mention his back, shot from blaster.

He follows well-known path hidden between houses, then turns toward massive complex of temple’s building. There he strolls in darkness until he reaches barely visible back doors of now empty storehouse. He enters and without hesitance walks to stairs leading underground. Few turns, one crossroads and finally he reaches chamber he’s looking for.

Jedha’s temple is large in size, but since Imperial soldiers took over the city the sanctuary has become hollow, with less and less monks occupying the complex. Baze isn’t allowed to live there anymore; not legally, at least.

Back when they were only adepts, he and Chirrut explored temple’s mysteries for years. When they'd found cellar complex and this chamber they brought blankets and spent here countless nights together, mostly whispering about Universe’s and Force’s secrets. However that was many years ago. Now they were adult, Baze has never become guardian but assassin and Chirrut lost his home, the temple occupied and robbed by troopers.

Chirrut rises from makeshift bed, consisting mostly of stolen blankets. Chirrut doesn’t sleep there (mostly) but with other monks, in the other part of temple, but fe always awaits for Baze’s return.

‘Welcome home, my dear’ blind man smiles as he comes closer and gingerly touches Baze’s face, running his fingertip along the scar on left cheek as if he checks it’s really his partner standing in front of him.

Baze doesn’t answer. He embraces Chirrut and leans his head against other man’s shoulder, breathing in familiar scent of his robes. He involuntarily grunts when he stands on hurt leg.

‘How bad?’ Chirrut asks.

‘Nothing serious, I can tend it myself’ Baze murmurs to monk’s neck.

‘Especially the one on your back, huh?’

‘I’m sure there’s a mirror somewhere there. I’ll manage.’

‘Of course you’ll manage’ Chirrut steps back, his voice suddenly much colder.

Baze sighs. ‘I’m sorry, I’m exhausted. I’m grateful for your help.’

Chirrut smiles at once, like a child that was given what it wants., and walks out of the room.

It was their personal ritual since they’ve met, more than forty years ago. Every time one of them got hurt, which was rather often and mostly linked to fighting practice, the other one tended the wounds. There was a time when Chirrut needed more attention than Baze; it feels like it happened in another life. Now it’s Baze who needs treating after most of his errands, while Chirrut sits whole days in temple or on the market, chatting with pigrims who sometimes throw few credits to a blind monk. As for Baze, he would rather stay with Chirrut for the rest of their lives than getting his hands dirty with blood. But they won’t make a living from what Chirrut gathers on the street, and since Imperials took over the planet they need much more money for bribes.

Baze carefully removes weapon and armor and puts it all in the corner of the room. Next he takes off the shirt and sits on the pile of blankets called bed. Chirruts appears a moment later, with a bowl of water, clean cloth and bacta pads he must have stolen.

‘Where?’ Chirrut asks, sitting right behind him. Before Baze answers, he adds: ‘Your back, right?’ and carefully touches burnt skin on left shoulder blade.

The other man hisses. ‘Yes, exactly there.’

‘How did it happen?’

‘I was evacuating. Missed one guy with blaster’ Baze grunts in reply. He know Chirrut doesn’t like to listen about his jobs so he narrows down his answer.

Chirrut soaks the cloth and slowly cleans damaged skin. Baze lets out few groans, but there’s a hand on his shoulder, kneading at sore muscles and bringing familiar comfort. A moment later Baze feels lips pressed to the nape of his neck.

When the skin is cleaned, nimble fingers place bacta pad over the wound and wraps the bandages around Baze’s solid torso. It always fascinates Baze, how deft Chirrut is when it comes to bandaging. Back at school, Chirrut could still see when he was helping his partner with scraped knuckles after a fight. Now he was blind, and he proceeds as well as then.

When he finishes, Chirrut plants another kiss on his neck.

‘Where else?’

‘Thigh. It’s just a bruise, it’ll heal itself…’

Chirrut shushes him and waves his hand impatiently. Baze removes his pants as well and lie on blankets. Chirrut squats right beside and examines the damage, mostly based on Baze’s hisses.

‘How does it look?’

Baze squints his eyes in a dim light of the only lamp in the room. ‘Thin, long, angry purple. Got hit with a rod or something like this.’

‘Are you sure it wasn’t a stick?’ Chirrut jokes. He reaches for another pad and places it on over inure, guided with Baze’s hand. This time Chirrut kisses his knee when he finishes.

‘That’s all’ Baze confirms. He can’t even hide exertion in his voice anymore.

Chirrut gently pushes him back on blankets and lies beside. Baze hugs him closely, ignoring dull pain of left shoulder blade.

‘I missed you’ Baze confesses weakly and tucks his head under Chirrut’s chin.

‘I missed you too’ Chirrut replies but Baze’s already asleep.


End file.
